


Crime, and other technicalities

by RavennaNightcrown



Series: Songs of III-404 [2]
Category: Evillious Chronicles
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Criminals, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Mafia AU, Multi, Organized Crime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 03:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17256674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavennaNightcrown/pseuds/RavennaNightcrown
Summary: Tidbits from the daily lives of various characters from the Error of the Gods AU. May or may not contain spoilers and scrapped plot points from the main fic.(for more vaguely Error!AU-compliant content: brokensongsfromthemerry-go-round.tumblr.com)





	1. Happy New Year!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam and Eve start the year with their first heist together.

His wife, no—his partner in crime, they weren't married in this world _yet_ —had been grinning ear to ear at the vast jewelry collection for tomorrow's auction. The next second she was already shoving necklaces inside her dress—he already disabled any alarms after the guards had done their rounds earlier—and did she just insert some rings inside her gloves? That's too conspicuous!

"Eve, are you really planning to steal all this?" he asked. His mother would love this—the jewels or the mere fact that they were together, probably both, she was the one who pushed him to go with Eve after all. And most likely for the crime itself, his mother and his grandparents definitely would find it funny to steal from a Beelzenian luxury liner right at the beginning of the year.

" _We_ ," she clarified, "we are going to steal all this, Adam." Her eyes already had stolen all the stars, is there even anything she wants more from the world? "Isn't your job to be the lookout?"

He glanced at the door, relieved that they were still undiscovered. "Fine, just... be careful. And make sure to take them all."

"Yes, yes. Remember, don't shoot until the fireworks start. We need to take advantage of the New Year," she smiled mischievously at him.

"Of course, I know that. I suggested that. My mother was the one who forced this calendar, remember?"

Eve giggled. She then shoved a blue sapphire in his face. "Look! This one has the same color as your eyes...!"

He flushed and took the sapphire from her hand, hiding the gem in a pocket in his suit. "Right..." He cleared his throat. "I'm going to help you, it's almost midnight and you're too slow."

She scoffed, "There's nothing that I can't steal!” And then a whispered afterthought, “...Probably."

"Yeah, you even stole my heart."

"What." Did he really just say that out loud?

" _What_."

"Hey, you...!”

"Shit!" And then midnight struck: he heard the liner’s computerized voice say 'Zero' and the familiar boom of fireworks. With practiced ease, he swiftly took out the gun from a hidden holster in his suit and shot the guard. From his peripheral, he saw Eve take out the gun from the holster on her thigh and shoot a second man.

**"Happy New Year."**

He took Eve's hand and dragged her out the storage room, best that they get out when the people are still focused on the fireworks. "Did you get everything?"

"Yes!" She held up her bloated handbag with one hand, somehow managing to fit everything she cannot put on her person there. "Now, do you know how to swim?"

"Yeah...wait, what?!"

"We are going to make our escape by sea."

"But what about the jewels?" She can't be serious! The things they have stolen might get lost, and that's not even considering that the jewels would weigh them down.

"Does it really matter? At least Beelzenia will have lost some wealth," she explained, her beautiful voice almost breaking into a laugh. He was already heaving from all that running but she was still full of energy.

"I guess...?"

Eve grabbed his tie and smirked. "This is how the Phantom Thief Platonic does things." And she jumped in the water.


	2. Graduation Nerves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At some point in his crime and sorrow-riddled life, Hansel Moonlit experienced living like a normal commoner. As normal as a supposedly rich son could be.

He found himself sitting in a slightly above average cafe after class, sipping hot coffee tempered with milk and sugar. Time and again, Rin amazed him with her excellent choice of a place, choosing a relaxation place sure not to be crowded by their rich and elitist classmates at Aceid University.

“I’m really happy that you agreed to spend the last day of the semester with me,” Rin told him after finishing her serving of cake. After a while, her smile became shaky and she blurted out, “Are you sure you don’t want to go home to your mother yet?”

Of course, he wanted to see his family. But it was their graduating semester, and after graduation day, he had this strong gut feel that he might never see her again. And in his pointlessly long young adult years, courtesy of pretending to be someone half his age, he wanted to grab on to something outside of his family, to find an anchor to the sanity of the common world. “They’ll understand. I mean, graduation is around the corner and we are both in different majors and we might not see each other again after this…” There was also the fact that Rin doesn’t know about his true identity and the  _ other very secret  _ reason they cannot meet many years after graduation: he was not going to age, ideally. And also that one other thing called dietary restrictions of sorts.

Rin’s expression darkened even more. “You’ll probably be employed in your mother’s company?”

“I’m not sure really. I’m not really interested in her field.” His hands were shaking, and he can’t get his brain to make up something to lighten the mood.  _ Come on, brain. We can do it. _  “Rin, I really want to thank you for the past five years.” He sighed, or at least his mental self did. It seemed that his brain cells were not yet completely mush.

The freckled girl across him flushed. “Lemy…?”

“If it wasn’t for your help, I don’t think I would be able to graduate on time to be honest.” The music major crossed paths with him, a business major, in a history class. They had immediately clicked, him enjoying her deviations from the typical Aceid University student—she was a scholar it turned out, and she idolized Riliane Roses’ life of independence and power—and Rin enjoying his admittedly shitty commentary on the historical, and oftentimes debatably fictional, figures of Evillious. He couldn’t help it. He personally knew a lot of them.

“Oh no, I- you couldn’t put all the merit on me! You worked for it too!”

“Not just for that. I really like your company.”  _ Wait, where am I going with this?! _  He was saying everything that came to his mind, filtering them hardly even an option.

Rin’s entire face was red, and he thought that maybe his was, too. Although that couldn’t possibly be. The truth is nothing to be embarrassed about. She stared at the table for a long time, maybe five minutes or just one like that one relativity thing he was taught in one class. “I—” Glancing at her watch, she stood up and stuttered, “It’s getting late, don’t you think we should um, you should, go? It’s going to be rush hour soon and you might be stuck in traffic.” Rin wasn’t looking at him the entire time, hiding her face in her curly hair.

He wordlessly followed her outside the cafe and saw that the sun was about to set. Rin was right. He needed to leave now if he wanted to wake them up in the middle of the night. “Uh, see you on grad, Rin.” He fiddled with his car keys, thinking that if he left now, he would never find the opportunity again. “Rin, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Yes?”

“I really like you.” And then he dashed for his car and drove away.

 

* * *

 

He was banging his head, softly, on the kitchen counter. Worried as he was about waking his aunt at midnight, he kept on his pathetic display to try and erase the embarrassing memory from his mind. “Why did I do that, whyyyy?”  _ What kind of guy confesses to a girl and then scampers away?! _

Still he knew he was smiling like crazy. And was red as hell. His remaining brain cells suggested that he run for governor and then impose an ordinance requiring schools and parents teach their children this very important and very amazing life skill. He wasn’t even sure if he understood what ordinance meant but decided to keep the idea for future use.

Hoping that things will be better in the morning, he chugged a bottle of milk before climbing up to his room and burying his face in his pillow.

 

“Hansel, wake up.”

He groaned, “Five more minutes.”

His mother giggled, but her voice had a deeper tinge to it. Or pitch.  _ Is mother sick? _  “Hansel…” And his mother sang a song, a lullaby with lyrics he had only heard just then. But the words felt familiar, and the voice definitely was his mother’s. Familiar calloused hands stroked his hair, as if wanting to lull him to sleep instead of supposedly waking him up.

Hansel’s eyes shot open. There was no way he would be in Alicegrad right now. He slept at his room at his aunt’s, way back in Toragay. He was in a dream. Dreaming about needing to wake for class even if his last semester as a false university student was already over. Rolling over, he prepared to pinch himself to wake himself up. His dreamself froze when he saw  _ her _ . Instead of familiar shades of teal, the woman before him was clad in  _ red _ . “Who are you?!” he screamed as he backed away.

The woman he thought was his mother smiled, revealing sharp bloodstained teeth very like his own and Gretel’s. Her mouth then formed words, but no sound came out, and her arm reached out to him. He has never seen this woman before in his entire life, but he felt like he should know her. That scared him. His conscience never impaired him, and now he felt as if he was being haunted by someone he didn’t even remember killing. Unless… his mother fed this woman to him way back when they were very young children…

He felt a strong jab on his stomach.  _ Dear gods. _  The dream turned nightmare apparently has very good uh, 4D effects. And another hit, one that knocked the air out of him.

And he woke up. Hansel jolted straight up and observed his surroundings. He was still in Toragay. His fingers went to his necklace, seeking comfort in the star-cut diamond ring adorning it.  _ My mother is Eve Zvezda, my mother is Eve Zvezda, my mother is Eve _ —

A tiny giggle disrupted his attempt at being introspective. By the bed beside him stood a cute toddler. A cute and innocent toddler who woke him up at—he looked at the clock by his desk and was a bit irritated that he was barely able to steal thirty minutes of sleep. He pinched the toddler’s cheek, earning a squeal. “Remi!”

“I’m awake, I’m awake.” He felt around for his phone, he needed to talk to Gretel. The kid climbed on his bed and watched him dial his sister’s number. “Gretel?”

“...hm?” her electronically distorted voice gurgled. “Hansel, why the fuck are you still awake?!”

“Don’t swear! And, were you about to sleep, I’m really sorry, I’ll hang up and then call you tomorrow, bye—”

“No, no, no. It’s fine. Are you okay?”

“Remi, whu wiss this?”

“Ouch!” His hair was being pulled and he had to carefully brush away the kid’s curious hands from his phone.

“...who the hell was that?”

“Briar Rose.” He went to ruffle Briar’s blue hair and and answered the four year-old’s question, “My sister.”

“Ooh! We are sishters, too?” the toddler responded with sparkling eyes.

“Who in the world is that??”

“Aunty’s daughter. Our cousin.” There was silence on the line, Gretel’s breath barely there. “What does she look like?”

“Um… I guess like either Cain or Abel? Why?”

“Nothing,” she said dismissively. It’s been years, maybe decades even, since they last saw each other in the flesh. Embarrassing and frustrating as it is, he and Gretel had found themselves on different paths: he was pretending to be someone else half his age to go to university, while she has been living her years playing soldier to another one of their cousins. He can no longer read her like he used to. “Hey, what did you really call me for?”

“I confessed to a girl.”

“WHAT.”

“What does  _ confess _  mean, Remi?”

“And I ran away after.”

Gretel screamed so loud that he thought Briar would be able to hear her. A little bit later she whispered, something maybe not intended for him, “I am surrounded by lovestruck dumbasses.”

“Gretel, what do I do?” He motioned for his cousin to go out of the room, “Go back to sleep with Mother. It’s already very late, Briar.”

She made a sad expression but then left the room, not before giving him a hug and bidding good night to the best of her ability. He needed to wake up in time for breakfast tomorrow, or later to be more accurate, to spend proper time with his aunt and cousin after missing dinner with them.

“Why did you run in the first place?!”

“Because I didn’t know what to do!”

More swearing bombarded his ears. “Talk to her. That’s it. In person, go to her house, if possible.” He found Gretel strangely supportive of this, as if the other factors in their lives were mere words. “I am a freaking assassin and soldier, fixing the love problems of idiots is not part of my job description so get this over with Hansel.”

“Okay…?”

“DO IT. You are Hansel Moonlit and something as small as this shouldn’t scare you.”

“Another thing…”

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, but I had this weird dream.”

“Hansel, I swear, if this is a distraction tactic—”

Goosebumps rose on his flesh, and he was thinking of a way to not sound stupid. With a nervous voice, he told her: “I dreamt we had a different mother.”

Silence.

“Gretel?”

She scoffed. “Anyone could be better than that old hag.” More silence. “Get those silly thoughts out of your head, Hansel. You might lose your spot as the favorite.”

She was right. It was just a weird ghost. Or nightmare thing. There’s no way he could forget his mother’s face when his aunt’s kind smile and solemn eyes reflected hers like a mirror. “You’re right. Good night.”

“Good night. And congratulations on graduating. I really wish I could visit, but I’ll settle for pictures.”


	3. Story of A Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before he was Bruno, he was Sigurd. But after her and everything else in-between and even long after, he was the Queen's most faithful servant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...did not know how I wrote this. Characters keep on growing on me so this sidestory collection would probably be getting more updates than expected HAHA

The Queen was already cold and hard and beautiful and cruel when he first met her. She was the subject of all whispers in the streets of Alicegrad; the stuff of nightmares of disobedient and runaway children, a beacon of hope for the orphaned and abandoned. Even back in Maistia, the legend of the Witch grew as it passed from outsiders to shop owners and to children. The old weary eyes she had, teal eyes that had definitely sparkled in her youth, were a stark contrast to her youthful face.

“Do you want a home?”

His lip quivered, but the Queen’s expression didn’t change. He knew he shouldn’t be scared, not when he had willingly stowed away on a boat seeking refuge and new beginnings in the bustling Leviantan capital. As terrifyingly beautiful as she was, the Queen didn’t hold him at gunpoint the same way the soldiers of the Marlon Mafia did when he all but stared at their feasts. Her outstretched palm was an invitation to a new world, one that he would never get out of.  _ Do you want a home? _ Sigurd Zero wordlessly took her calloused hand, and she led him to the most beautiful mansion he had ever seen.

* * *

There were many other children in the Moonlit Estate, but he noticed that he was among the ones who stood out. Almost all of the others were Elphe, their green hair in various shades but never as vibrant as the Queen’s, or blue-haired children. When he asked her once why he was chosen, still heaving from the thrill of a sparring victory, she had answered, “There is something about you. I feel like you and I are bound in more ways than one.” The Queen laughed after, a hollow sound from her throat, and continued with empty eyes directed towards the night sky, “How that is possible when you aren’t a product of the merry-go-round, I do not know.”

* * *

Soon, he and the other children, those which the Queen deemed worthy and strong enough to be closer to her, was gathered to be trained by four of her advisors and two of her in-laws. Those who could survive till the end will be part of her elite, and everyone wanted to be closer to the Queen. Those who didn’t—surprisingly, they weren’t discarded. All the children the Queen had taken lived and took on various roles in her domain, with the Elphe ones she frequently lent to Millennium Forest. She even provided all of them education.

From shared feasts, stories and truths and rumors were also shared. They all loved the Queen, even though they knew that she most likely saw them as pawns. Sigurd found out that he wasn’t the only one who was entranced by her; the affection, or perceived care, they had all received had branded itself into each of their young minds. For him and the rest of them, the truth was the she was their mother, even though she had been raising them as soldiers unloved.

* * *

Many more years later in his teens, he had been acquainted with two of the Queen’s children. Hansel and Gretel had invited him to spar as he was the most promising amongst the others. It was an overwhelming defeat, but he had enjoyed it. As he had expected, the twins weren’t human, too. During a shared snack and a slip of the tongue, it was revealed to him that the Queen had two previous children: a girl and a boy, also twins—Cain and Abel.

The Queen had caught the three of them, and she scolded the two young adults while giving them a playful pinch on the cheeks. She was smiling, until she had turned to look at him. “I didn’t take all those children to replace my firstborns.” Her cold palm reached out to caress his cheek, “None of you are replacements. If anything, I took them because they reminded me of Adam and myself, long before we were tainted by this world. At least with me, you will never be abandoned.” 

* * *

He was now a young adult, and it was the perfect time for the spy in the Levianta Police to be planted. The Mafia had slowly built itself back up from the ruin the Police had inflicted during Merry-Go-Round’s reign, and it was only now that they can once again get hold of the law and order. The Queen’s grandfather-in-law had selected him, and the decision was cemented with the votes of the present advisors Dunbar, Anette, and Tuberci.

“You will be called Bruno Marlon from here on out.” And then he had entered the police force.

* * *

By now, everyone had referred to him as Bruno—sometimes he wondered if he was ever Sigurd. Bit by bit, his fellow officers got replaced by his fellow soldiers, and then they still called him Bruno. Except the Queen, for she referred to him as Zero. She had only called him Sigurd once, back when she placed him in the care of Dunbar. Zero was more convenient, she had said, although sometimes he could hear Sigurd in the whispers of the winds.

* * *

Before he knew it, he had gained the position of being the Queen’s most trusted aide, and he was very thankful for that.

* * *

When he was almost forty and the Queen was over two centuries and a half, he saw her unravel. The abandonment she promised she would never let them see, she herself had been inflicted with.

“My children are nowhere to be found!” she would frequently scream at night. Not even her husband could quell her pained cries.

He wished he could calm her, but the arrival of the boy from Lucifenia reminded him that he never could, for the two of them were just Queen and servant, no more than that.

* * *

On his fortieth birthday, he cried. Everyone except her in-laws did. What would his purpose now be then? She was gone, gone,  _ gone. _

* * *

He watched as Adam descended into madness. But unlike back then, he wasn’t just a bystander. He was going to try and serve him the way he did the Queen—but his devotion only belonged to her. Adam was just a remnant of her existence. And it would be what she would have wanted.

And that was why, even if his new master commits all possible abominations, he will continue to serve him and stay by his side—even as his dead blue eyes shone a crazed gleam similar to that of the Queen’s during moonlit nights—for this will be his last act of service to the Queen.

* * *

Changing masters across time—

A delusional scientist grieving his beloved,

A god trying to salvage his ruined kingdoms,

A boy who wants to change too many things in too short a lifetime,

A daughter lost in the unforgiving sea of hate,

And a woman broken beyond divine repair

—Bruno Marlon would say he had only really served one:

The last person who remembered the name of Sigurd Zero.

* * *

She was surrounded by bright light, smiling at him when she never did before. “Thank you for looking after them for me.”

He was content, for long ago he had decided that if he couldn’t take the place of Abel—not that he ever could—then he would be her most ever faithful servant.

 

_ If I could be reborn, let me serve you again then. _


	4. Prelude to Lunacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A supposedly typical day of the women of the Venomania household before everything descends into large-scale drama and betrayal feat. Gumina Glassred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that out of all 'legit' sidestories I've written for Error, this one is the most companion-ish or complementary to the main fic. This one is literally an important part of the plot, although not very plot-driving.

Gumina skimmed the documents that had been on her desk, and felt relieved that they were all just trivial matters. The company wouldn’t come crashing down if she left the work to her associates. It wasn’t like she was going to slack off, she would just be entertaining some other work—work that was honestly not part of her official job description.

“Carol.”

“Yes, ma’am…!” the redheaded secretary responded immediately. Gumina thought herself lucky to have a familiar face in her workplace, although she should have expected that since she inherited the position from the late Classke, who was friends with Carol’s father.

She turned in her swivel chair and reached for the still warm mug of coffee on the far side of her desk, she was going to need the caffeine. “I’m going on leave… or I guess I should call it a business trip.” It was really some sort of business trip, her boss had asked her to do it, but she—Gumina Glassred, Chief Information Officer of Yggdra Pharmaceuticals, Inc.—didn’t ever expect that she’d be somehow dragged into the mafia’s mess despite living only in the most legal of ways. “Tell the boss I expect  _ all  _ my expenses to be reimbursed for this.” She doesn’t like it one bit, but maybe she could cross paths with  _ him  _ again.

“Understood.”

* * *

Lukana was walking in Lasaland’s much kinder shopping district when she came across a newly-opened dress and fabric shop. The dress on display behind the glass window was beautiful, and as a tailor herself, her appreciation extended to the intricate lace flowers on its hems and the fabric’s delicate shade of green. It would surely suit Mikulia.

“Do you want to buy it, miss?”

She stepped back in surprise. Had she been staring at the dress for too long? The bespectacled man who approached her, the owner presumably, wrung his hands excitedly. Lukana looked back at the dress, the fabric was very unfamiliar, but she was sure that it was expensive. Her meager savings on hand surely wasn’t enough, and there’s no way she could spend Mistress Maylis’ money entrusted to her for grocery shopping. “I, I— I was just window shopping, sir. I was entranced by the embroidery.”

“Very few people could appreciate such minor details… are you experienced in dressmaking?”

“I’m a tailor, sir. Um, the fabric? Where is it from?”

“From over Jakoku. They have skillful artisans and unique materials over there.”

“I see.” Lukana bowed in embarrassment, “Sorry and thank you for your time.”

“Wait.” She stopped. “I can sell you a few yards of that fabric if you want, just enough for the dress. You seem to want it very much, a gift for someone?”

Lukana couldn’t hide her excitement. “You would?” She could already think of the alterations that Mikulia would like, she did say she wanted to be a princess. “But I only have a few hundred Evs on me… I can’t possibly…”

The shop owner smiled, “Consider it a first customer discount. I’ll take the money you have on you right now and I’ll give you the fabric.” She hurriedly felt for her purse. “On one condition.”

She halted. “Condition?”

“You work for me.”

That couldn’t possibly be! She was already employed by Mistress Maylis, and she doubted that she would allow her personal tailor to be pirated away. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I can do that.”

“No worries, you can then refer your clients to my shop. I sell fabrics and supplies more than dresses, I’m sure that we could work together, miss.”

“I can do that.”

“Remember to tell them about Freezis’ Textiles.”

* * *

Mikulia was irritated. Everyone had been giving her weird looks again, and she ended up not going to the herb shop. Maybe she shouldn’t have told off Master Cherubim’s bodyguards, but honestly they were stifling. He was only worrying about her safety, especially since he couldn’t leave Lasaland at the moment… and now Mikulia felt guilty for it. She was somewhat lost, the streets of Abito foreign. Even Lisa-A, her ‘home’ of fifteen years, was like that. It wasn’t like she was allowed to go out back then, and being able to freely wander Lasaland was a breath of fresh air.

The pharmacies in Lasaland were lacking, and she was told by Maylis that was because Yggdra Pharma kept on filing patents… and so the Beelzenia Conglomerate could hardly keep up with new medicine. If that was true, then Abito might be a lost cause. What were patents anyway? Forget it, there were still other forms of medicine. There was a forest nearby, Mikulia couldn’t remember why she knew that but she was very sure of it. And that greeonian roses, her past namesake, bloomed somewhere there…

“Found it!” she exclaimed. Hastily plucking blossoms, she had accidentally pricked her finger. “Ow!” She tried to ignore the wound and continued picking up flowers, now more carefully. Lukana had been very stressed and sleep-deprived lately, definitely because of Maylis being an evil boss. Master Cherubim, too, had been exhausted from managing the underground, and also because of securing her safety. With Gift, they would be able to sleep more peacefully, as long as she gets the dosage and preparations right. “AAaaaa!” Frustrated once more, Mikulia slumped into the dirt—she knows about the important stuff somehow, but there was a nagging feeling that she would fail in preparing it. Stupid Mikulia. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“You!” A female voice. Mikulia ignored her. “You’d get your dress dirty from sitting on the ground.” Sure footsteps approached, and she could hear stiletto heels slightly clicking on the hard, cracked earth.

“Go away.”

The woman knelt beside her, and she saw that the stranger also had green hair. “Greeonian roses, huh? Do you find them pretty, or were you going to use them for something else?”

“It’s none of your business,” Mikulia spat. The stranger wore a business suit and heels, and what kind of person dresses like that when going to a forest? She reeked of wealth and entitlement and reminded Mikulia of a dreadful past. Soon a well-manicured hand gripped her chin, and she got a good look at the stranger. Green hair and pale blue-green eyes, definitely Elphe.

The other woman gave her a once over. How rude. “You really look like her, interesting.”

Mikulia felt anger bubbling, and slapped the woman’s hand away. “Get your hands off me.” However, the woman held onto her palm, the one pricked by thorns, and put some antiseptic on it from a bottle from within her suit jacket. She was really pretty, a graceful kind of beauty, but she was just so damn rude. Although it was relieving that she was still far from Calgaround’s level. With some semblance of decency.

“Say,” the woman asked, ignoring her comments, “have you ever heard of the prostitute Greeonia Rose?”

* * *

Maylis’ dinner was awfully boring, just like always. Boring, like Marlon cuisine. The Venomanias should have hired better cooks, or maybe she should. She stood up from the table and proceeded to go to the kitchen, where she saw a twin-tailed girl, Cherubim’s pet. The girl was busy, like she was mixing some liquids and some definitely non-food items. She narrowed her eyes, could it be poison?

The girl shrieked when she placed her hand on her shoulder. “Madam...!”

“Oho? Madam? I guess you really can’t take out the—”

Mikulia glared at her, and she brushed off Maylis’ hand. Pretty insolent, if you ask Maylis. She now wondered why in the world Sati allowed this scenario. Ugh, siblings. She liked the doting of her other siblings, but it had reached a point that it felt suffocating. Now she couldn’t even begin to understand why they thought her not a threat. Was it because she was the youngest? Ah, older siblings who are too complacent…

“Are you trying to poison us?”

“No! Why would I do that? This is medicine! For Master and for Lukana!”

Lukana? The two of them were getting awfully close, she ought to keep an eye on the tailor. “Hmm, I guess I’d leave you to your devices… for now.” As Maylis started to leave, she remembered something. “Better yet, have dear Cherubim taste that medicine first, fufu.”

“If there’s anyone to poison, it would be you.”


	5. Barisol's Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barisol’s child is an only child, for a time they're two children... but now Barisol's not-child has become an only child once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm churning out so much content these past few days even though I'm very busy but (laughs awkwardly) nothing's moving in the draft of Error's (the main fic) chapter 5 tbh

Everything was a fucking disaster. And things were definitely not supposed to go like this. He could still hear Maria wailing in her room, and fuck, he didn’t know how to deal with that. “Adam, go and comfort your mother.” A worried look etched on Adam’s features, and he immediately ran towards his mother’s room.

He pinched his nose, and he could almost swear he could feel wrinkles forming on his skin despite taking measures to remain eternally beautiful. Only the loud knocking of heels on lacquered wood accompanied Behemo’s thumping heart as he made his way to the estate’s laboratory.  _ Levia, where the fuck are you? _

The sound of shattering glass stopped him. It came from the kitchen. My Self, who could that be? Behemo sighed loudly and turned toward the kitchen. Sitting on the table so inelegantly was his—no, Levia’s mother. An ice bucket with two bottles of Yatski L’Opera sat beside her. First, a crying daughter. Now, a drunk mother. Behemo didn’t sign up for this when he created the world.

Rahab Barisol took a gulp of wine straight from the bottle, and then threw said bottle on the wall where it shattered, its contents spilling onto the tiled floor. Behemo’s eyes followed the debris to more remnants of glassware, and fucking hell, Levia’s mother had gone through at least three sets of their most expensive wine glasses.

“Stop that.” The older woman didn’t even respond, and instead reached for another bottle, prompting Behemo to grab her hand before she could make more messes. Family care was too much work, no wonder he just left Marina to her devices. Well, he did have Rahab watch over her for a while… maybe that wasn’t the brightest decision he had ever made.

“Leave me alone,” Rahab choked out. In the dim light, he could make out mascara in tear stains on her still flawless skin. Even her long wavy hair was overly tangled, as if someone had tried to tear it out from the roots and failing miserably, chose to ruffle it. Considering this bout of drinking, his guesses may not be even wrong. “ _ You _ leave me alone.”

“Immortal you may be, drinking this much is not good for your mental state.” Utter bullshit. That was Levia’s forte, and her mother’s. A biologist could only go so far bluffing a drunk but experienced psychologist. “Levia wouldn’t—”

Rahab slapped him. “Don’t  _ you _ dare talk about my daughter. If anyone should be gone, it should be you.” And she broke into sobs. “I loved her, and I couldn’t, I wasn’t even able to resolve our argument when she left.”

Even in this world, he was still unwanted, huh? Damn that Levia. She was his ideal self, and yet she couldn’t even appreciate having a mother by her side. She was missing, and everyone wanted to find her; Behemo left his home of Gudnatia and entered a false world, knowing that he wouldn’t be missed. He wished he was wrong. Maybe he really should have stolen her life back in the Second Period.  _ But then that would mean Behemo Barisol was never loved. _ He brushed away those thoughts, there was still Marina out there. Naive Marina who would do anything to make him proud.

“Not even going to retort with your usual snark?” She jabbed a finger at his chest, “Part of you wanted this, didn’t you? Levia, Levia, Levia… it’s tiring being unrecognized, isn’t it?” After another gulp of wine—just how intoxicated was she at this point, he wondered—she continued, “You are the one who didn’t belong, I know it. You are a stranger, you came from those outside who destroyed our world. But she loved you, she loved you and I let you live with us. Poor girl always wanted a sibling… too bad her mother didn’t even want a child in the first place.” And she laughed, a loud empty sound.

Behemo took the remaining wine bottle in the bucket and uncorked it, and then chugged its contents down. He would be thirstier in the morning, but fuck it. “I love her, too.”  _ I wanted to be her. _

His sister’s mother crossed her legs to fully sit on the table. “This is all a game to you, right? Even back then, we were all products of your whims.” Rahab leaned on him, and he let her. “A lonely boy wanted to be loved, and so he created his ideal world. But when given the option to live out that life, he cowered in fear of losing himself.”

“Because I’m not Levia.”

“You aren’t.”

He observed Levia’s mother again. Rahab was made in the perfect likeness of his own mother, Serpina, but that’s only up to where he could program her. Maybe this was why resurrection was outlawed even in the technologically-advanced First Period. It’s impossible to recreate a human life. “Haven’t you ever tried to care for me?” She was surely drunk, and truths may now become safe questions whispered into the night.

“Hah, my daughter’s brother… it took me a long time to love that child. You who didn’t come from me, I wonder.”

An answer he expected. “Do you think my mother would have wanted me?” She was Levia’s mother, who carried Serpina’s likeness, and she definitely wasn’t his mother. Maybe her prophetic shenanigans could lend him some insight. Levia had somehow believed in the subconscious or something.

“Why wouldn’t she?” Rahab may have been confusing him with Levia, prodigy at age six.

“My grandmother said so.” Who would love a cross-dressing deviant? Maybe Serpina had hated him so much she left him as soon as he was born.

“My mother was a dumbass, too.” Ah, a convergence point. The Barisol matriarch in Gudnatia was a stubborn idiot. She died in her sleep, or so the autopsy had said. Served her right for tarnishing his mother’s memory.

“If I was your real son, would you have loved me like her?” He was definitely drunk, the great god Behemo wasn’t this kind of vulnerable. It might be his old self’s spirit possessing him, not that he believed in such weird stuff.

Levia’s mother embraced him, and hummed a lullaby, a song that was not meant for him, “La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la lu lu lu…”

He hugged Rahab back, and he smiled mirthlessly at the irony. A son seeking solace in the arms of someone’s mother, a mother finding comfort in another’s child, and the one person connecting them, missing and maybe lost in the darkness: a dear sister, and a beloved daughter.


	6. Son of a Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gallerian Marlon is a good person. Or so that was what he was trying to tell everybody and himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something to fill in the wait for chapter 6 :')
> 
> Hopefully I can work on the main project again after academics give me a pseudo-break, but here have something I wrote quite a while ago.
> 
> Honestly, there might be some contradictions in the future but that's how it is

The rush of running water couldn’t drown out the ringing in his ears. Even the cold wasn’t able to do anything to calm his nerves, or at least distract him. Over and over and over, he washed his hands, hands that were stained— it wasn’t true. It wasn’t it wasn’t—

After what seemed like forever, he then splashed his face with water. Maybe, maybe what he saw was wrong. His eyesight must not be as good as he thought.

The lighting in the men’s bathroom of this part of the Levin University was pretty dim, and yet he could perfectly make out his pathetic self in the mirror. “I am a good person, I am a good person, I am—”

And then the reflection in the mirror laughed.

 

“Mr. Marlon, do you know why you’re here?”

“I didn’t do it.”

The Dean sighed. “You have consistently shown a stellar academic record, but even that wouldn’t be able to excuse what you have done. And to think you are only a few days away from graduating.” He looked around. Ah, he was currently in the Dean’s office, being reprimanded unjustly. Mira… she was with him, holding his poorly-bandaged hand.

“It’s—”

His defense was cut off by Mira squeezing his hand as gently as she could, and he could almost swear that she did that on purpose. He was no longer a child! Why were they treating him like he doesn’t know what he’s doing?

“Your benefactor may negotiate further with us for, uh, arrangements about your records, but regardless, your destruction of university property needs to be sanctioned.”

It wasn’t him. It wasn’t him it wasn’t it wasn’t him wasn’t it was the other  _ him _ —

Mira bowed her head and nudged him, whispering, “Just follow my lead.” She then tugged on his arm, gesturing for him to bow. “Dean, he’s going to pay for the shattered mirror. Galley, you would, right?”

Why? Why would he pay for something he did not do? “I—”

“Please just go with it. I’m trying to save your life.”

He bit his lip, and then muttered through clenched teeth, “...Yes.”

 

Once they were out of the Dean’s office, Mira kept on prying about what had happened. “Why did you break the restroom mirror? What were you thinking?! Are you okay?”

“It wasn’t me,” he managed to say after drinking some water she brought. 

“Don’t fucking lie to me. I saw you. I saw you go through all the library shelves like a madman and I followed you because I thought you were feeling unwell and you know, creeped out by that urban legend earlier and then—”

“Hey!” A male voice. “What’s up with him, Mira?” He looked up to see Mira’s brother, Gusuma, walking towards them.

“Gusuma,” she spat begrudgingly.

“Please… I want to be alone for a while…”  _ Why couldn’t they understand? It wasn’t my fault. _ The siblings bickered some more, with him tuning out whatever they were talking about.  _ I don’t want to be alone. _ He was scared, so so afraid. He was just defending himself from that thing, that reflection, that  _ demon _ … who looked just like him. He didn’t want to talk to that demon ever again, that creature from the mirror that only spouted lies upon lies upon lies. Certainly, that was the case; his father would never lie to him.

Gusuma’s arm around him shook him out of his thoughts. “You scared of ghosts and stuff?”

“Gusuma, you bastard of a brother. Ugh!” Mira screamed, trying to separate the two of them. “Don’t you know what tactful and considerate mean?!”

“Shhhh, stop shouting, Mira. All that exertion may not be good for the— ow!”

“Shut. Up.”

“Fine, fine. Let go of my ear.” After talking some more with his sister out of Gallerian’s earshot, Gusuma returned, smirking. “Oi, oi, just relax, brother.”  _ Brother? _ “Urban legends from the mainland could be quite scary, but don’t worry, all those bitches are dead. No rising from the dead and ghosts, unfortunately. So, how about,” he then dragged Mira to their little group, “the three of us all go out somewhere to help you forget whatever’s been bothering you?” Gusuma had then proffered his hand, leaving it for Gallerian to take. Was this how a brother would have been? Maybe, maybe so. He honestly didn’t know.

He took it, and Gusuma grinned. “But of course, no alcohol for Mira this time around.”

He heard her scoff, but was surprised at the very grim expression she wore.

“See, Mira? We are now friends.”

Friends. Ah, that was, that was a very  _ comforting _ word.

_ “Friends, huh? Pawns, trophies on our walls.” _

And he was in that room of tiles and mirrors again;  _ he  _ was laughing, but he wasn’t. 

The demon with his face kept on laughing and mocked him, “Ha, ha ha ha. I can’t do that: you are me.”

“Shut up!”

“Soulless. Tainted. Criminal.” His self snickered some more. “We are evil, just like our mother!”


End file.
